He was. He knew it. He had given her his weight, but he needed to. He needed to feel her there beneath him—his. He licked at the bite mark on her neck and then complied, rolling them both so she was sprawled on top of him. She lifted her head, her green eyes moving over his face. Seeing too much. He couldn’t give her any more or he’d be so lost in her he’d never find his way out. He had a job to do, one that required the bastard. The killer. Not the man he saw in her eyes.

He moved his hips, allowing himself to slide from the haven of her body as he rolled off of her. “Gotta go, baby. Drake’s waiting.”

She pinned him with her green eyes. Cat eyes. Focused. Glittering. “You can stay right there until I’m done, Elijah.” She sounded every bit as bossy as he did, although on her it was rather adorable. She moved down his body, keeping a hand on his belly, fingers splayed wide. “You are such an ass sometimes.” She hissed the accusation, bending her head to his hips, licking up the indentation along his bone. “You had your fun and you aren’t moving until I say so. Got that?”

He sank his hands into that thick sweep of hair meaning to pull her head up, to keep her from undoing him more, but he couldn’t actually take that away from her. Or take it away from him. He just lay there, both hands sifting through the mass of her hair, all that silk. It moved over his skin as she began to clean him. Using her mouth. That warm, soft mouth, that velvet rasp of a tongue.

“Dios, mi amorcito, I got it.” She was killing him. Bringing him beauty when his entire life had been a fucking nightmare.

Emotion welled up, threatening to choke him. He felt the burn behind his eyes and he nearly pulled her off of him, his body going rigid. She was stripping him bare. Removing, layer by layer, the armor he’d spent a lifetime growing around his heart and soul. She saw him. Deep where he hid. Where that small, tiny piece of humanity he guarded was cowering. Protected. She had that. She saw that. Anyone else he would have killed. But Siena . . . He belonged to her. Heart and soul. That last piece of him was in her hands. He’d given that to her without knowing it, and it was far too late to take it back.

“Honey?”